One is my husband and the other my boyfriend
The Key Around My Neck
I dangled the tiny silver key between my fingers, watching my husband’s eyes follow it with a mix of desperation and arousal.
“You don’t need this tonight, do you, baby?” I teased, slipping it onto my necklace, letting it rest between my breasts.
He swallowed hard, shifting in his chastity cage. “No, ma’am.”
Good boy.
The Rules of the Game
- He watches.
- He stays locked.
- He cleans up.
That’s his role now—supporting actor in my pleasure.
And my boyfriend?
Well, he doesn’t follow rules.
The First Time He Understood
It started with Marcus.
Tall, confident, hung in a way my husband could only dream of. The first time he pushed me against the wall, his hands possessive on my hips, my husband whimpered from the corner.
Not in anger.
In awe.
That’s when I knew—this wasn’t just sex.
This was power.
The Best Part
It wasn’t just the way Marcus filled me.
It wasn’t just the way my husband’s cage strained pathetically as he watched.
It was the after.
When Marcus left, and my husband crawled to me on his knees, pressing his face between my thighs, worshiping what another man had claimed.
“Tell me,” I murmured, fingers tangled in his hair. “Tell me how much better he is.”
And he did.
Why We Love This Life
- For him? The helpless arousal of being denied.
- For me? The control of choosing who gets me—and who doesn’t.
- For us? The intimacy of sharing every filthy detail.
We’re not broken.
We’re perfected.
The Final Twist
One day, I’ll let him out.
I’ll let him try.
And when he fails—when he always fails—I’ll smile, lock him back up, and whisper:
“Some men are just meant to watch.”
